Midnight Ice Cream
by diamond-helen
Summary: Hermione goes looking for a snack in the kitchens of Malfoy Manor and gets more than she bargained for.


_A/N This is AU and very OOC. It's also a departure from my normal pairings, so please do let me know what you think._

_A huge thank you to my beta LoveHGSS for all her support and her work on my horrific punctuation! You're a super sparkly star._

Hermione stared at the ceiling, looking in vain for any cracks in the perfect plaster-work, absently wondering how she ended up here and whether he was nearly done. It had been six weeks since she started her fling with a man who was supposed to be the best catch in Wizarding Britain. Good looking, filthy rich and supposedly great in bed.

She wouldn't argue with the first two, and would even add generous and attentive, but great in bed? Either he paid people to spread these rumours or his previous partners had very low standards. She whimpered softly, murmuring encouraging words which she didn't feel in the slightest.

It was, she supposed, entirely her own fault. She had faked it every time they'd been together, and had made no attempt to tell him she was left unsatisfied. According to all the trashy Muggle magazines she read, he couldn't change if he didn't know that he was doing something wrong. But then how do you tell one of the most egotistical men on the planet that he doesn't rock your world?

She was rapidly coming to the conclusion that he had all the potential to become yet another close male friend who just didn't do it for her sexually. It always started well, his kisses were divine, and he certainly knew his way around a woman's body, but when push came to shove there was something missing.

His thrusts became erratic and his breathing heavier.

"Come with me baby," he gasped. Hermione tensed beneath him, gripped his shoulders harder and cried his name.

It wasn't a very convincing performance she didn't think but it seemed to be enough for him. He rolled off her, muttered something sweet, then pulled her close and went to sleep.

Half an hour later she was still staring at the perfect ceiling. With a sigh, she wriggled free of his arms and found her clothes on the floor. A wave of her wand changed the blouse to pretty pale blue silk nightgown, not too revealing if any of the house elves happened to still be awake, but sexy enough that he would appreciate it if he was awake when she returned.

She chuckled to herself as the last thought crossed her mind. She frequently asked herself why she bothered going back, but she knew the answer to that. He could be an arrogant prat but he'd changed from the nasty school-boy she used to know. The idea of breaking up with him and the real reason hitting the press was something she knew she couldn't put him through, and since the Prophet had already got wind of their romance she knew she couldn't just walk away now.

She had no intention of doing happily-ever-after with him, but figured if she left it a bit longer she could find a less personal and hurtful reason to leak to the press about a break-up.

Hermione moved quickly through the manor, her bare feet making no sound on the soft carpets, not that there was anyone to disturb. Draco only brought her here when his father was absent. He insisted he wasn't ashamed of her, that it was only out of respect for his father and not wanting to flaunt his relationships when Narcissa had left Lucius so publicly only a year or so ago.

Hermione had no problem with avoiding Lucius Malfoy. Although he didn't inspire the same fear he had all those years ago when they had been enemies facing each other in battle, he still wasn't a man she wanted to annoy. He also held a strange fascination for her. Their paths crossed occasionally in the Ministry and he was unfailingly polite, but there always seemed to be an undertone to their interactions which intrigued her. He wasn't hostile, yet something in his eyes seemed restrained, as if he were holding back. She couldn't begin to fathom exactly what he was holding back however.

She arrived at the kitchens and pushed open the heavy oak doors. Her intention was to find something sweet to snack on, preferably chocolate. Since she'd been left frustrated in bed she may as well satisfy her taste buds.

She was so busy opening cupboards and drawers that she was entirely oblivious to the fact that she was no longer alone.

"Excuse me, Miss, what exactly do you think you're doing."

Hermione jumped and swung round, suddenly sorry that she had left her wand in the bedroom.

"Mr Malfoy, I, um, you see," she took a breath and gave herself a mental shake. She was an adult and she wasn't doing anything wrong. "I was just after a midnight snack, Mr Malfoy," she said, smiling at him.

Lucius looked her up and down, trying not to stare at the picture she made in blue silk, the fabric stretched over her breasts, and showing enough of her creamy thighs to make restraint hard won.

"I gathered that, Miss Granger. I was rather more wondering why you were after a midnight snack in my kitchen, of all places?"

Hermione blushed as she realised that Draco hadn't told his father of their relationship. "Draco and I are, that is to say, I mean," she trailed off, not sure how to phrase 'I'm fucking your son' in a way which didn't seem vulgar.

Lucius smirked at her awkwardness. "I see," he drawled, once more scanning her figure with his eyes. She didn't seem particularly dishevelled, to say nothing of the fact that she was stood in his kitchen, not wrapped in her paramour's arms in post-orgasmic bliss.

Lucius turned away from her and placed his cane on the wooden table in the centre of the room, adding his leather gloves and heavy cloak. Hermione watched, mesmerised as Lucius shed the evidence of his travelling. Feeling her eyes fixed on him, he turned back to the witch.

"Don't mind me, find whatever it is you're seeking and return to my son," he said.

Hermione continued to look through cupboards, finding what she was seeking when one of the doors opened with a blast of cold air, revealing cooling charms. Shivering in her light nightdress she found a tub of double choc fudge ice cream and turned to Lucius with a smile, the tub in her hands.

"Why, Mr Malfoy, I never figured you for a chocolate ice-cream man," she said.

"I think, seeing as you're stood in my kitchen in your sleepwear you can probably call me Lucius, don't you?" He waited for Hermione to nod before continuing. "What makes you think it's my ice cream?"

Hermione prized the lid off the tub and smirked as she found it half eaten. "Draco doesn't like ice cream."

Lucius stalked towards her with deliberate, measured steps until he was close enough for her to feel his breath on her face. He tugged the tub from her hands and placed it on the worktop before he spoke.

"The problem, Miss Granger, is that now you know, I'm going to have to kill you."

Hermione took half a step backwards, which resulted in her being flush against the cupboards at her back. She looked up at him and smiled, unfazed by his threat.

"Killing me seems a little extreme. How about you share the ice cream with me in return for my silence?"

He moved forward, closing the gap she had attempted to open between them. He leant his hands against the tall cupboards and dropped his head so that his lips brushed her ear as he spoke.

"But then I'd only have half the ice cream. I could have it all if you were disposed of."

She tried to think of a logical comeback, but her senses were clouded with the man currently pressed against her. Everything about him was intoxicating, he smelt of sandalwood and something dark and spicy, his rich wool robes brushing against her bare skin, his lips just grazing the delicate skin of her ear.

Her eyes fluttered shut as she sighed, unable to respond to him in any coherent way.

Lucius was surprised by how responsive she was to his actions; he had half expected her to run screaming when he first came within a few feet of her. Deciding to push his luck a little further, he lowered his lips to hers, kissing her softly. She gasped and he took advantage and deepened the kiss, his hands moving, one to tangle in her hair while the other slid down her silk covered body to the base of her spine, pulling her against him. She kissed him back, passion and desire flowing through her in a way she had longed for when with his son.

Draco.

His face flitted through her thoughts and she pulled away. She looked at him, the tall blonde figure so similar to her boyfriend, yet so different. She would give anything to stay, to discover if he was, finally, a man who could make her body sing. But she wouldn't betray Draco like that, no matter what her body was begging her to do.

Without a word she slipped from his arms and out of the door of the kitchen.

Lucius smiled softly to himself before picking up the ice cream and retiring to his own rooms, his head full of the delightful little witch who contained a fire he had been finding hard to resist for a while. Now he just needed to work out how to tempt her away from his son.

* * *

Hermione fidgeted while she waited for Draco to arrive at her house. She had spent the last hour adjusting cushions and throws that didn't need it. She had moved ornaments, rearranged photo frames and polished the mirror. She dropped onto the sofa and stared at the fire, waiting for it to glow green with his imminent arrival.

When the flames did turn green she almost felt sick, suddenly wanting him to go away.

She managed a smile as his tall, blonde figure stepped into her living room.

"Hermione?" he said, walking towards her. "What's wrong? You look like you're about to be sick."

He sat next to her and reached for her, frowning when she pulled away.

"I think we should break up," she said, then slapped her hand across her mouth as she realised how blunt she had been. Her intention had been to explain herself, to break it gently, not blurt her feelings out in one go.

Draco sighed and leant back on the couch.

"We're not really working are we?" he said, a slightly sad smile on his face.

Hermione shook her head before replying. "I love being with you when we're debating this theory or that book, I like having dinner with you and spending time with you."

"But there's no sparks between us," Draco finished for her.

Hermione shook her head again, looking so upset that Draco laughed softly and pulled her into his arms.

"Thanks," he said.

"What are you thanking me for?" she asked, frowning.

"For being honest, for not letting this slide into something serious and unsatisfying for both of us. I don't get it. We should be so good together, but it's just, wrong."

Hermione laughed, her head tucked against his shoulder.

"Very wrong."

"What made you tell me now?" Draco asked. "I've been sure for weeks that you weren't happy, so what changed?"

Hermione blushed, not sure that she wanted to tell him this part.

"Do you remember the other week, when we got up for breakfast and your dad was home?" She waited for Draco to nod before continuing. "Well, I'd been up during the night for a snack and he walked in on me rooting through cupboards. I found his ice cream stash and was teasing him, and we, well, kissed."

Draco moved so he could see her face. "You kissed my father?"

"I didn't mean to, it just happened, and then I was kissing him back and I felt all the things I longed to feel with you, and just don't. I thought I could maybe forget about it but the harder I tried the more I realised that it wasn't fair on either of us. We should both have the chance to find some passion somewhere."

"I can't believe you snogged my dad."

"Are you angry?"

"No, not really. Just surprised. I wouldn't have figured you for his type. And I don't mean your blood before you say anything. He really isn't like that anymore."

Hermione laughed. "I know that, Dray. I've seen the impact his backing has had to some quite radical and controversial new laws and schemes. Even the most cynical person would struggle to question all his motives. He's a Slytherin, a consummate survivor. If you say he's changed, I'll believe you."

Draco frowned for a moment. "It's more than that though. It's true he's moving with the times, but he realised, way too late, that letting someone else control his life was fatal. All three of us nearly died, and he honestly saw at the end how ridiculous his beliefs were. You had a lot to do with that."

Draco was quiet while Hermione thought over his words. Then he smiled. "Of course, he's no saint. He still doesn't like most people, but now he judges them on the fact that he's more intelligent, better looking and wealthier than them."

Hermione laughed. "Well, that's ok then." She looked at him again, her expression growing serious. "You really don't mind?"

"No, not really. I mean, I would much rather that you blushed like that for me, and that it was me that sent shivers down your spine or whatever. But, since it's not, I'm just glad you were honest with me."

Hermione smiled and settled herself into the cushions of her couch.

"So, what did you think of the article on dandelions in headache potions in the latest Potions Monthly?"

Draco grinned at her as they launched into a debate, both feeling oddly as if the end if their relationship had taken the pressure off somehow.

* * *

It had been three weeks since she technically finished with Draco, not that anything much had changed, except for a lack of unsatisfying sex. When her friends commented on the way they still saw each other a couple of times a week she usually told them that having tried, and failed, at a romantic relationship made their friendship firmer, with no sexual tension in the way. Personally she thought it was very similar to the friendship she had with Ron, a brief fling years back having settled any romantic notions either of them had. This opinion she kept to herself mostly, as the only time she had mentioned it both men had been in earshot, and both had sulked for the remainder of the evening. Apparently growing up and putting differences aside didn't go as far as being compared by an ex.

Hermione was pleased that things with Draco had turned out so well. She just wished his father was as easy to sort.

In the five weeks since their encounter in the kitchens of Malfoy Manor, she had done everything to put him out of her mind. She had given herself stern a talking to, analysed every move of the incident with Ginny, even gone on a couple of dates. It was only after she found herself thinking that her good looking, intelligent, rich date was too young, too brunette and too nice that she really accepted that she was fighting a losing battle. The only problem she had then was what to do about it. It was easy enough to tell herself that she would very much like to explore further the feelings Lucius had sparked with a single kiss. Figuring out whether she should try and approach him, and if she should, how to do so, was a totally different story.

Hermione ran her finger around the edge of her wine glass and opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again with a snap.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, just say whatever's on your mind please," Ginny asked, exasperated.

"What do you mean?"

"You've barely listened as I talked, you've had three glasses of wine in an hour and you've not even flinched when I spent the last ten minutes describing sex with Harry. So spill."

The two women were sat in a corner booth in the Three Broomsticks, a sacred girls' night designed to balance out the overload of testosterone in their friends and family. Usually gossip and giggling was the order of the day, but Hermione was trying to find the words to ask Ginny how to go about seducing an older wizard with a dark past who had tried to kill them both.

"I think I'm obsessed with Malfoy."

Ginny stared at her for a long moment. "'Mione, you broke up with him. You can't say you're obsessed with him now." Ginny's jaw dropped slowly as Hermione shook her head. "Shit, you don't mean Draco do you?"

"Nope."

"Bloody hell."

Hermione laughed ruefully. "Yeah, tell me about it." She took a long drink of her wine before continuing. "I've tried to stop thinking about him, Gin, I really have. But something about him is mesmerising. That, and I've never felt that sort of heat before. I suppose part of it is I'm scared that I'm never going the get another taste of that."

Ginny whistled. "So, what are you going to do?"

"I have no idea. How the hell do you tell a man like Lucius that you want him?"

Ginny grinned, the sort of expression that on the face of the twins meant nothing but trouble. "I think I may know. Only catch is, you're going to need Draco's help."

Hermione bit her lip then leant towards the redhead, her eyes lighting up as Ginny explained her plan.

* * *

Lucius pushed open the door to the kitchen, glad to be home after a week of business meetings with the American ministry. He wanted an ice-cream indulgence and bed. His musings on his week were brought to an abrupt halt as the door swung open. He stopped in the doorway and surveyed the scene before him. His eyes travelled up bare legs, then narrowed as the expanse of skin was broken by black lace edging on an emerald green silk teddy. The material skimmed a flat stomach and clung to delicious curves. A riot of brown hair twisted and curled against her skin, glowing softly in the kitchen lamplight. Plump lips glistened as she licked thick brown chocolate off a spoon, the way her tongue slid across the smooth surface making his trousers tighten.

She was sat on his kitchen table, his tub of ice-cream next to her on the ancient worn oak. She moved her spoon down to take another bite, her brown eyes not leaving his silver-blue ones as she sucked and licked at the implement.

Lucius frowned as he saw the amusement on her face. This was his house, and that was his ice-cream, yet he was allowing her the control. He smirked slowly as he made his decision, enjoying the slight tremor that travelled through her frame at his expression.

"Miss Granger," he drawled, "what exactly are you doing?"

"Just having a midnight snack, Mr Malfoy," she replied.

"Yes, I can see that. However, since you are no longer sleeping with my son, why exactly are you having a midnight snack in my kitchen?"

"I wanted ice-cream, and guessed you would have some," she responded.

Lucius smirked again and stalked towards her. Her confident grin faltered slightly as his leather-gloved hands came to rest on the wooden tabletop on either side of her.

"The problem, Miss Granger, is that I believe we decided last time we were in a similar situation to this, that the only real solution was to kill you."

Hermione swallowed hard and tried to control her breathing, not entirely sure whether her heart was beating faster through fear, lust or a heady combination of the two.

"A discussion was had, yes. However, I don't believe such a drastic decision was agreed upon by both parties involved. I seem to recall proposing an equal split of the spoils in return for my silence. Thus I will gladly surrender the remaining portion of the tub to you."

Lucius shook his head. "I am willing to concede that murder is a touch extreme. Nevertheless, I remain unconvinced that frozen confectionary is enough to buy your silence."

"What do you want in return for my silence then?" Hermione asked, leaning back on her hands. Lucius took half a step backwards, his light blue eyes darkening, the expression on his face hardening.

"There are plenty of things I could do to you which would ensure your long lasting silence."

Hermione shivered at the tone of his voice, smooth as velvet with a hint of pure darkness underneath. She wasn't entirely sure she should be inviting the attentions of a man with such a dark core, but she couldn't help herself. She knew she was playing with fire and more than likely to get burnt, but she had a feeling that he was worth it.

She looked him up and down, her gaze slow and deliberate, before licking her lips.

"I'll bet there are," she drawled. Her heart had stopped thudding so hard; she was there for a reason and she wasn't about to lose her courage now, nor allow him to chase her off with vague threats.

He laughed darkly. "You couldn't begin to imagine what I'm capable of. I'm not a nice man, and you may be letting yourself in for more than you bargained for. I will give you this chance to leave and we won't speak of this again."

"And if I choose not to leave? What then?" she asked, suddenly afraid that she had read this all wrong, that he had no interest in her at all.

"Then you need to pay for that ice-cream."

"What do you want as require as payment?"

"You, to do with as I please until morning."

Hermione could repress neither the shiver that ran through her nor the soft moan that escaped her lips at his words. Lucius needed no other response from her; he closed the gap between them and kissed her. His kiss was hard and demanding, and she returned it with equal force and passion. The spoon she had been eating with fell to the tabletop with a clatter that went entirely unnoticed. One of his hands buried itself in her hair, angling her head back to allow him better access to the slim column of her throat. His other hand moved slowly up her bare thigh, causing her to gasp at the feel of leather on her skin. His teeth nipped at her delicate skin as his hand ghosted along her leg and over her hip, pulling the green satin with it. As soon as the material was bunched at her waist he pulled it over her head, dropping it onto the stone floor of the kitchen. Lucius paused for a moment to take in the sight before him, creamy skin bare except for a scrap of black lace at the apex of her thighs. Her cheeks were red, the blush spreading down her neck and blossoming over her pert breasts, the pink tinge giving her a delightful glow.

He moved away from the delightful witch spread out on his table for him and began to remove his gloves, methodically sliding one finger at a time from the supple leather.

Hermione shifted impatiently as he slowly slid his hand from one glove before beginning the other. Lucius stopped as she moved and raised one eyebrow a fraction.

"Be still," he said, his voice cool and calm. Hermione ceased her movements, unable to do anything in that moment other than obey him. She watched, transfixed, as the second glove fluttered to the floor, followed by the heavy fabric of his travelling cloak. He undid the fastens on his robes and let them fall, adding to the pile around his feet. His steady, measured striptease would've made Hermione writhe in anticipation had it not been for his strict instruction to stay still. Her self-control was sorely tested as he slipped his silver cufflinks from his sleeves and began to unbutton his shirt. As each button slid through the white material, revealing more of his lightly tanned, toned chest, she whimpered; she wanted him over her, to be able to touch him, not to just be looking at him. He smirked at the noises she was making, wondering absently what she would sound like as he brought her to climax over and over through the night.

He stepped out from the pile of clothing that had pooled around his feet and moved towards her. Without a word, Lucius placed a hand on her shoulder and pushed her backwards so she was lying on the table, the wooden top rough under her back, her breathing increasing as he leant over her. His lips descended over hers and she let her eyes flutter close, only for them to open in surprise as he kissed her. Where before he had been rough and demanding, this time he was gentle and soft. He coaxed her lips apart and slid his tongue against hers, his movements sweet and seductive. She arched her back into him as his hands slid over her skin, caressing her hips, the curve of her waist, the hollows of her collarbones. His fingers circled her nipple, before making her gasp against his lips as he pinched her. His mouth trailed down her throat before latching onto the other breast and she moaned his name as he licked and sucked at the hardened flesh.

His hands and mouth continued their seductive dance along her skin, every part of her he touched or kissed tingling with pleasure. His hands tightened on her hips and he pulled her to the edge of the table before roughly pushing her thighs wider apart. His heady and unpredictable mix of rough and gentle, combined with his focused silence had Hermione more turned on than she could remember being. This, she knew was what she had longed for in a man, the fire he lit within her, that she knew only he could quench.

Her musings on the situation were brought to an abrupt end as his fingers slid through her folds. He circled her bud with his fingers, touching enough to heighten the feelings in her belly without offering any sort of release. His hand was replaced by his tongue, and she arched and moaned as he pushed her closer and closer to the edge. Her hands clawed at the table as she flew towards her peak, only for her to sit up suddenly as he moved away from her.

Lucius laughed at the angry expression on her face, loving the exquisite responses of this fiery woman. He smirked as her anger was replaced by lust when he released himself from his trousers and moved back to his previous position between her legs. He grasped her hip with one hand and pushed into her willing body, thrusting hard into her. He leant over her, one hand toying with her breasts as the other supported his weight. Hermione wrapped her legs around his hips and raised her hips to his, meeting him thrust for thrust. Her hands gripped his shoulders as he pushed her over the edge, his name torn from her lips.

Lucius continued to pound into her, his movements becoming jerkier as he reached his own peak.

"Hermione," he gasped, her name the first word to spill from his lips since his instruction to her not to move, as they began this sensual dance.

He slumped forward over her, both trying to catch their breath. He looked up as he heard the breathing deepen and even out, her eyelids fluttering closed.

"Oh no, you don't," he said softly, kissing her quickly. "The payment was for until morning, and I'm nowhere near done with you yet."

Hermione kissed him in response, not at all adverse to replacing sleeping with the pleasure she knew he could give her. Without breaking the kiss, Lucius picked her up and apparated to his room, his mind whirring with all the things he wanted from her during the night she had promised him.

* * *

Hermione stretched as she woke, her body aching, but deliciously so. She knew she would have bruises from his fingers on her hips, but she also knew he would have marks down his back from her nails. She winced as the daylight from the large window hit her eyes, the brightness making her think it was probably approaching midday.

They had fallen asleep at dawn, having spent hours pleasuring each other, her head on his broad shoulder. Her only regret, as she drifted off to sleep, had been that she was sure it wouldn't be a night she was likely to repeat.

She slid out of bed and headed for the bathroom, only to be stopped by a voice behind her.

"Where, exactly, are you going?" Lucius asked, his eyes running appreciatively over her form, especially the marks he had left in the heat of the moment.

"To the bathroom, and then home, I suppose," she responded.

"Home?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Is there a reason why you're running away?"

Hermione's eyes flashed at the implication of cowardice.

"I am not running away. You've had the night you wanted, I assumed me leaving was for the best."

Lucius slid from the bed, approaching her slowly. His voice, when he spoke, was low and soft.

"I asked for a night in return for ice cream. I didn't state it was all I wanted." He reached for her hand, letting his thumb stroke the inside of her wrist gently. "You were the one who was sat barely dressed in my kitchen, so tell me what you envisioned. Did you only want what you got, or did you desire more?"

Hermione took a deep breath, praying to any deity that chose to listen that she hadn't misunderstood.

"I want you, and the way you make me feel, for as long as you'll have me. Not just for sex, I want to be the focus of your attention, I want to discuss politics and art, I want to fight with you and make it up again. I want to know why you've been looking at me for months in a way which makes me nervous and excited all at once."

Lucius smiled, his eyes soft as he pulled her into his arms.

"Then you shall have all that, for as long as you please." He tilted her chin with his fingers so he could look into her eyes. "There is a condition, however."

"What?" Hermione asked, slightly wary.

"You have you own ice cream, and stop stealing mine."

Hermione laughed and reached up to kiss him.

"Agreed."

_Thanks for reading, please leave a review!_


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